Top of the morning, woodland creatures and those who know better than to play with Dad's Zippo, and welcome to Capitan, New Mexico! Today the beans are dropping by the park set aside to honor one of America's most beloved icons, Smokey the Bear! As those of you who ever went to summer camp must remember, Smokey was the little North American Black Bear cub that was found clinging to a tree in the nearby Capitan Mountains with his poor little paws burned after a 17,000 acre forest fire in 1950. Smokey became a national symbol for fire prevention, and the now famous bear lived comfortably for the next 26 years in the National Zoo in Washington D.C. The beans were always fond of Smokey, because take our word for it -- there are few smells worse in this world worse than burned beans.

Anyway, the Smokey Bear Historical Park opened in 1979, and is home to an outdoor amphitheater, a visitors center, playground, picnic area, and other safe 'n sane family fun that doesn't involve the use of incinerary agents, fireworks, Molotov cocktails, and/or a flamethrower.

The beans had a swell time at the park, and were sure to keep a fire extinguisher and cell phone speed dialed to a raindancer near their barbecue pit at all times, just in case.

Do remember the old lame joke everyone told as kids?

Q: What's Smokey The Bear's middle name?
A: "The".

Har, har. But the real question is this: From the choices below, can you guess which one is the bean's middle name? Is it...

  • Beans ("The Beans Beans"?)
  • Superstudlycoolcano'shinizzle
  • Mighty Tasty (two middle names - how trendy!)
  • Elvis
  • W.
  • Spot

Everyone done guessing yet? Well, you're all wrong. The beans do have a middle name, but it's top secret. Sorry, but the Department of Homeland Vegetable Security would have a fit if we were to disclose that kind of classified information.

There was also another joke about "Smokey the Elephant", but since the beans can't remember how it goes, we'll just have to pass on that one.

Sadly, we must finish up here, at the gravesite for none other than the real Smokey. He lived a good life in Washington D.C., but died of old age on November 9, 1976. (He wisely wanted out before disco became a national craze.) Yes, poor ol' Smokey went to that big forest in the sky, but his spirit lives on, and hopefully keeps some of the "less than bright citizens" out there from throwing their butts out the car window or using Coleman fuel to start the campfire. If Smokey's memory (and the fear of a mighty hefty citation from the U.S. Park Dept.) helps prevent any real-life Bambi/Fire moments, then it's all worthwhile. The beans thank you, and Smokey thanks you.